


Our Other Selves

by SecondFromTheRight



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Earth 2 Barry and Iris mentions, Episode: s02e15 King Shark, F/M, Iris' POV, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 16:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: Iris asks Barry about their Earth 2 doppelgangers, curious about a married version of themselves.“He – Barry – was clearly head over heels about her.” He tried to clarify.“And she wasn’t for him?” she asked with a frown. Is that how he saw the two of them too? Unequal?





	Our Other Selves

**Author's Note:**

> I've written quite a few WestAllen fics the past few days now, but I really wanted to try something from Iris' POV. This is what the result was lol.
> 
> I guess I wanted to add another scene of Iris clearly thinking about Barry and her feelings for him, and how the revelation of their married doppelgangers had furthered that mindset.

“Sooo…married, huh?” Iris started the conversation that had been rolling around in her head since he’d told her and her dad about meeting their doppelgangers on Earth 2. She and Barry were sitting on the stairs at the West household.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Very married.” He replied kind of dazed. She knew he was struggling just now, blaming himself in the way Barry took everything on himself. She’d hoped the pizza they’d had would chill him out some, but so far it hadn’t done much; his mind was obviously still preoccupied.

“That’s becoming a bit of a theme.” She said lightly with a bit of a smile. She didn’t want to put him on the spot, or make him talk about something he didn’t want, but she wanted to know. ‘Iris West Allen’ just kept buzzing in her mind.

“Yeah,” he said licking his lips and tilting his head down away from her. His arms were hanging between his legs, his hands clasped together. She’d watched him rub his hands together numerous times in the past minutes.

“Did she hyphenate too?” she asked, still trying to prompt him. She wanted to know if her counterpart was happy with Barry Allen – being married to Barry Allen. She wanted to know if she could connect with her, if she was anything like her. And she wanted to know what Barry’s feelings were about it all. About her, about their married Earth 2 selves. Did he still think about their own married future?

“I uh, I don’t know, actually.” He said, finally seeming to actually be thinking about it all. “She went by Detective West, but then Cisco did call her Mrs West Allen.” Then he laughed. “I think maybe he was Barry Allen West.”

“What’d you mean?” she asked him. Finally a smile was touching his face and she wanted to indulge it.

“I think Detective West might have been the one…in charge, in their life.” he said carefully, leaving her confused.

“I don’t get it.” She told him.

“He – Barry – was clearly head over heels about her.” He tried to clarify.

“And she wasn’t for him?” she asked with a frown. Is that how he saw the two of them too? Unequal?

“No, she was. I’m saying it wrong. He just…he just liked to talk about his wife, very proudly. And she was the obvious proactive one, at least in what we saw, anyway. Or, what I saw. I’m not sure about Cisco and Harry.” he explained.

“Oh.” Was all she uttered, looking away and facing forward, trying to work out exactly what that meant. She’d pursued him? Or was it just the detective thing? It made sense she was more the take charge kind of person if she was a detective, she supposed.

“He was brave, for her.” He said with a different tone. When she turned back towards him he was staring at her, a soft look on his face. “They helped rescue me, and Jessie. Helped Cisco and Harry find Zoom’s hideout. And Barry was the one who was able to make me believe I could escape – I was having trouble phasing out of the cell.” He revealed, making her frown.

“You didn’t tell us he had you prisoner.” She said obviously, worried about what else he held back.

“It doesn’t really matter,” he told her with a shrug, leaning away against the wall of the stairs, away from her. Then he crossed his arms across his lap and stared ahead.

“Barry, it does matter.” She said. When he didn’t reply she tried again. “Barry, talk to me.” She implored. He tilted his head towards her and traced his eyes over her face and she hoped he saw how sincere she was. He continued looking at her, his face growing more intense. “It’s me.” She encouraged. He swallowed at that and she didn’t know what it meant. Then his eyes briefly shuttered close before he fully turned away, sitting back up. He leaned forward, his hands braced on the stairs either side of him like he was about to get up and run. It was Barry – if he ran, she couldn’t catch him. She heard him take a deep breath, and she held her own.

“Part of me wanted it. Wanted it to be mine.” He finally said.

“I don’t… That life?” she tried to understand.

“Yes.” He whispered, tears on his voice. “My mom was alive. I got to talk to her.” He smiled at her with a watery smile, that smile that he shined because Barry was good and happy and pure, but that smile that came with the irony – with the acknowledgment that he knew there was pain, that something wasn’t fair, that there was loss. It was a smile he made when he thought about the state of his life, the good and the bad and the balance he tried to find between his gratefulness and his resentment, his natural light and the dark the world had forced on him.

“Barry,” she met his whisper with one of her own, placing her hand on his. He quickly gripped her fingers and she was thankful for his connection, that he was still here and with her.

He nodded at her. “The only problem seemed to be that Joe didn’t like me. We – they, that Barry and Iris,” he looked away for a second then, “they lived here, in this house.” He looked around the living room and she followed suit, trying to imagine this being their house – their marital home. “And you,” he exhaled “she,” he corrected “she – loved her job, and her husband, and seemed so…fulfilled.”

“It felt real.” She stated.

“So real.” He quickly nodded. “It shouldn’t have, I know, but it…it did. Like I could just stay there and be happy. But then Joe...” he trailed off with a shake of his head, guilt on his face that she wanted to take away, that she didn't think belonged there.

“I think you might have been a bit of a third wheel in their marriage.” She tried to joke. “Although two Barry’s – I’m sure there’s a fantasy or two in there.”

He looked down, a blush touching his cheeks and a chuckle exhaled from his mouth. Then he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, telling her “I think she might have liked that, actually.”

“What?” she demanded, a grin on her face.

“She was…aggressive. I mean, you’re…you know, you can get your own way pretty easily but she uh…she took it to another level.” He said smiling, a mischievous tease in his voice and he looked at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Barry Allen, what did you do with Mrs Detective West Allen?” she asked with a small smile.

“Hey, she kissed me!” he defended.

“Wait, seriously?” she asked him, unsure how she felt at that revelation.

“She was…very passionate about her husband.” He confirmed, smiling at her somewhat sadly. It felt like an accusation. She knew that wasn’t how he meant it. His presence was as sweet and genuine as always. But she felt it. That Iris was passionate about her Barry, and she wasn’t passionate about hers. Maybe it was her own guilt at how she’d dealt with his feelings for her – or to be more accurate, how she hadn’t dealt with his feelings for her, or hers for him. They’d never had a chance to.

“Oh. Wow. That’s…” she shook her head, feeling quite struck. She actually felt jealous. Of herself? And she felt jealous of Barry, that he’d gotten to experience a married Barry and Iris. “Was it how you thought it’d be?” she asked him outright, taking maybe a really stupid risk. But Iris still thought about Barry Allen; she hadn’t stopped.

She stared him right in the face, waiting for his answer, waiting maybe for him to laugh it off and maybe even reject her and break her heart a little. Instead he got this really weird, conflicted look on his face. He avoided her eyes and his face sort of crumbled and he looked so sad. She could see his jaw tense and his eyes shine.

“Iris,” he whispered, like saying her name conveyed everything. Maybe it did for him, but she didn’t know what it meant, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do with it.

“Sorry,” she quietly apologised to him after a beat of silence.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He automatically told her with a shake of his head.

She made a choice to hold back in that moment. Whether it was too much for her, or for him – maybe for both of them – she didn’t want to push anymore. She wanted him to feel good, to feel safe and loved and like he was home. She wanted him to feel like he belonged, here, with her and her dad and the others, on this earth. And delving into their feelings for each other would maybe cause more problems instead. She didn’t want to do that to him. Looking at him as he sat staring ahead at the mess King Shark had left the house in – she loved him, in multiple ways she loved him. She wanted to comfort him, make this easier. She didn’t want to complicate things even more for him, and definitely not for the sake of appeasing her own confusion, curiosity and want. She hoped they’d get another chance, a better chance. 

She took his hand back and held it between both of his, upon her lap. “I’m really glad you’re home.” She told him. He turned towards her again as she spoke. “I need a Barry – I think maybe all Iris’ in the multiverse do; you’re mine.” She promised him, feeling a thrill at being able to admit some of how she felt, what she wanted, but without really saying it and risking things.

He smiled at her, his eyes brightening some as he nodded his agreement.

“Yeah?” she prompted him.

“Yeah.” He confirmed. He moved his body again, leaning closer to her, settling against her. She let herself relax against him too. He brushed his thumb over hers and she noticed him staring at their hands still on her lap. “This is home.” He exhaled and she hoped she wasn’t imagining it but it felt freer, like he was letting something go instead, like he was okay.

“If ever you need a period costume by the way, you look pretty amazing in 40’s outfits.” He said with a smile.

“Earth 2 is styled in the 40’s?” she asked, beaming, thinking about that’d look. Oh the clothes she could wear! 40’s but being a female, black lead detective – a respected one? 40’s style without the 40’s social attitudes? What a dream. Her dad’s doppelganger being a lounge singer suddenly made much more sense.

“Yeah. And it – it really suited you.” He told her with seriously, his lips curling into a sweet, appreciative smile. Then he turned to her, his smile increasing and she saw his eyes dip to stare at her lips. She licked them in reaction out of instinct and his jaw tensed in response. She really hoped he was thinking about kissing her and not her Earth 2 version. His eyes shifted back to her eyes as he swallowed and she saw it – his feelings for her. It had to be something; she was witnessing it. She didn’t know if it was the love he’d confessed before, but there was something still there. Her chance at exploring things – exploring the idea of them – seemed a lot more likely with that look. She could live with that; she could wait a little longer.


End file.
